


All I want for Christmas...

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1497028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This has been the first Christmas John and Mary were about to spend together, moreover as a married couple. He finally moved on, they were happy together and lfe regained its past coulours. They've been living at Baker Street - John had no problem with that - time thaught him to eal with pain and now this place only reminded him of the good memories. Sherlock might have been dead but he was John's best friend. John Watson always has believed in Sherlock Holmes. Everything was alright again. But this Christmas was about to change it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I want for Christmas...

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, it's Easter, let's write a story about Christmas! One should never ever try to understand what's happening in my head. I have no idea myslef. Also, you can consider this slightly AU, as Mary here is just Mary, normal Mary no stupid-secret-agent-Mary by idiot-Moffat-destroyed-season-3. ENJOY.

It's been their first Chrismas together and John wa really happy for the first time in... in quite a long time actually. He finally moved on. He was a bit less happy he had to go to work this day but now the work was done, so he could really say he was happy. He entered the kitchen with wide smile on and kissed Mary "Hello". The smells were tempting and he couldn't wait but take a look into the pots. Mary chastened him.

"A beetroot soup..."

"My grandma was polish. That ancestry is followed by the special Christmas menu. Out of the kitchen. You had better took care of the tree."

John smiled and run away muttering something sounding like "Alrigt, alright". He really felt amazing. Christmas is the time of miracles indeed. He took the way upstars to take the Cristmas decorations from the attic and stopped for a moment passing the door of the empty, untouched room, that stayed out of use since its owner fallen of the rooftop. It might have been the first time he smiled passing by this room. Suddenly that was no sad expierence. Suddenly that was only good memories of what bustle could Sherlock make always during Chrismas, how he could destroy everthing with hs stupid deductions and then fix it with the amazing violin play. He passed by and lft this part of his life slip to te past. He went upstairs to bring Crismas decortions and start everything all over again.

* * *

 

John and Mary were sitting on  a sofa, in a hug, carols playing in the background from the old tape. They finished the suppr and opened their presents. John was now sitting in his new jumper and Mary has a new neclace around her neck. They felt good just like that, as the clock was ticking and nothing mattered, only they have been together as the time stopped. As the clock's hands moved they stood and left into the cold, into the snow falling and slowly walked down to attend Midnight Mass. It's been the prefect evening. The perfect night. Everything has finally sorted out.

* * *

 

Mary went upstairs before John and noticed the huge gift box under the Christmas tree. It's been around 2 am and she wouldn't expect that. She couldn't also figure out how could John place it here if he wa still downstairs...

"John, darling, how is this here? And more important, what is this?"

John finally joined his wife as she looked at him with surprise. But his face showed the same. He hd no idea wht the box was and Mary's question proved she was not the one to place it there. So who else could it be?

"I've no idea, but something tells me we do should try and open it."

He didn't know why, buut the bo woken some strange anxiety in him. Like the whole perfectness of this day, like that life he lasted for and finally gained was about to end with that box. No idea he had, how right he was.

The walls of the box fallen and the content shocked Mary and John like they would never expect. This has been even more surprising than they thoght it would be. John was stammering, pale and definitely touched by the situation. He kept repating "But he's dead." in  whispering tone. Fortunately Mary came back to reality first.

"John, put yourself together, we need to help him or he's really dead!"

That worked. Orders - that wa the only thing the former soldier needed. Dead or not was no londer a matter - the person laying in front of them needed help. And the person was the owner of the room. Sherlock Holmes in person, heavily beaten, covered in blood and bruises, signs of struggling, drowning, torture. He was unconscious, tied up, his ankles and wrists bound by the ribbon that followed to his head, gagged him and blindfolded him to finlly form a bow above his dark locks. There was even a ticket.

"Dear Dr Watson

And dear Ms Watson now of course. I'm happy you established your life well and I'm sending a ittle gift for a new begging. 

Yours sincerly

JM"

John and Mary started to undind the detective and as they set him free they gently layed him on the sofa, still unconscius, looking even more miserable than when the ribbon covered most of his damaged body. John took his phone and started to dial the numeber of the emergency service, but Mar stopped him.

"He's dead, don't you remember. His state is terrible, but not life-threatening, so I think that we should take care of him ourselves so far as we can, being both medically skilled. We can also call Molly tommorow, as she could be helpful too. And then inform Lastrade and Mycroft, and they will sort everything oout with his suicide and he scould be taken to the hospital if needed. But it's 3 am now and I think we will he him more taking care of hm ourselves and just letting him sleep."

John slowly nodded, still not fully aware of the situation, still shocked by both the state f his friend and the fact that hell condition was he, but alive and that wa great. They should let him sleep, John nodded. At that moment the miserable figure on the sofa moved a bit, slowly regaing consciouness...


End file.
